A Rock, Paper, Scissors Thing
by MyInnerWeirdo
Summary: It's just something that can and may happen when you're a vampire and a parent. Get used to it. TW: Child Endangerment


**TRIGGER WARNING (TW): CHILD ENDANGERMENT**

**A Rock, Paper, Scissors Thing**

"Did you find him yet, Mommy?"

The little boy stood next to the bed in an oversized shirt as Marceline dug beneath the mattress. She pulled out dust bunnies, bits of paper, some socks and various other things but the thing she was searching for—a little bat-shaped doll—remained elusive.

At the boy's question, the vampire crawled out from under the bed, brushing the dust from her arms. "No, sorry kiddo. Can't find it." He pouted at her, his bottom lip quivering, and it made her heart break a little. Unfortunately, there was literally nothing she could do. The doll they'd been searching for was not here; it must have been left at Bonnie's castle. "Don't give me that face; you'll be just fine sleeping without it for tonight."

His eyes watered and he sniffled a bit. Marceline sighed. She felt for the boy, she really did, but it couldn't be helped. "I don't want to sleep without Tom," the boy protested, clutching the front of his nightshirt. "He keeps the monsters away."

"I know he does." Marceline gave him a comforting smile, "But I don't think any monsters are going to be coming to the Vampire Queen's house anytime soon, kiddo."

He looked at the ground for a few seconds, and then looked back up at her. Pleading pink eyes bore into her own red ones. Marceline sighed. She knew this was coming, but not how to stop it, so she gave in right away. "Look…Richard, how would you like to sleep in mommy's bed tonight?"

The young boy's face brightened instantly. Richard nodded enthusiastically, grinning from ear to ear. Sighing, Marceline smiled back. He jumped into her arms, his face burying into her collarbone, repeating his thanks incessantly as he hugged the air right out of her.

"You're very welcome, bud, but it's just for tonight." She held Richard and hovered up the ladder into her bedroom. "We'll find Tom tomorrow and you won't have to intrude on your mother and me again." She set the boy on the large bed.

Richard looked up at her, clutching the covers beneath him, "When will Momma be here?" he asked; his curiosity had perked at the mention of his birthmother; she could see it literally shining in his eyes.

"About thirty minutes from now. You'll be asleep by then—or you'd better be." Marceline gave the boy a warning glance, "But you'll see her in the morning."

A lot of the time, Richard didn't see much of Bonnibel because she was so busy and he was at Marceline's house. The subjects at the Candy Kingdom disliked him to the point of neglect for reasons Marceline didn't like to think about so they were never to be trusted with him. It was one of the many reasons he lived with Marceline and further away from Bonnibel's attention. She really felt bad for the kid; fortunately, Bonnie was taking the next few days off so everything would be fine for now.

Though she wasn't tired and required no real sleep, Marceline still laid in bed with her son. He clung to her hair as he slept, the softness of the dark tresses bringing him a familiar comfort of his Tom bat-doll. Richard had fallen asleep just a few minutes ago, Marceline was sitting up in her bed reading a book in the dark; vampire eyes were really a perk when you had kids.

A soft sigh and a sort of snorting sniffle made Marceline look away from her book and at the child next to her. A pale, pinkish white lock of hair was ticking the boy's nose as he slept. So it wouldn't bother him too much, Marceline gently brushed it out of the way.

The door opened in the front room; it creaked softly and she heard it. Smiling, Marceline went back to her book, unable to move for the child next to her might wake up. Bonnibel was here, finally. She was late. An hour late. Richard decided it'd be great to stay up and wait for her so he could give her a hug before sleeping and was very disappointed when she didn't show up on time. Marceline could give her such a chiding for that.

Bonnibel didn't come up through the ladder like she was supposed to. For a while she was just down there, making noise with the pots and pans. Whenever a particularly loud noise was made, Marceline would flinch and glance down at Richard to make sure he was still sleeping. Growing increasingly frustrated, Marceline was about ready to get up from her spot on the bed and chase the candy queen down and scold her for making so much noise and for being so late—but…

A draft of strangely cold wind made her freeze in place, though; her brows knitted together as a strangely familiar scent wafted into her nostrils. Her hair began to move, twisting and curling like tendrils as a feeling of threatening dread washed over her. Instinctively her hand went to Richard's shoulder, as reassurance he was okay and to grab him and run if she needed to. The boy whined a bit in his sleep, a deep frown creasing his chubby face. Marceline glanced down at him, her fingers tightening on his shoulder just a bit.

She cooed at the boy, "Shhhh, it's okay. It's just a bad dream. Just a bad—" Something loud crashed somewhere in the living room. Whatever it was it sounded nothing like something she owned. She frowned, looking back on the whole in her floor. "—dream…"

The trapdoor began to glow an eerie grey. It started out faint, and then grew brighter, turning a grayish blue as a shapeless figure slipped through the hole.

Marceline gasped, brows furrowing as she recognized what was coming up. She always had a good relationship with ghosts, but she hadn't seen one in a while. Not only that, but this entity filled her with a terrible dread. Its face was sunken in; its eyes were dull and empty, much unlike her usual group of ghost friends, and certainly unlike Bongo.

The ghost moaned, a low and pained sound rumbling from somewhere in its transparent body. Marceline trembled, her thoughts racing about what she was going to do, and more importantly, how she was going to be able to do it. This was a _ghost_, and a very unfriendly one by the looks of it. She swallowed dryly.

Vampires couldn't beat ghosts.

Its gaze shifted downward, slowly, and it looked longingly at Richard's sleeping form. Her breath hitched in her throat, making the smallest noise, and in response it lunged. Marceline cried out, something in-between and angry growl and an anguished yelp. She grabbed Richard with both hand and pulled him to her chest. The boy snorted, jerking awake and finding himself face deep in one of his mothers' chest. Marceline flew up, rolling, in the air, out of the way of the evil ghost as it plunged into the bed.

It sunk into the mattress without difficulty, phasing through it without leaving any impression because it was ghost and could touch nothing. Marceline huffed, hugging Richard tight. He couldn't see anything through his mommy's shirt. He clutched it tight, knowing something to be terribly wrong. He whimpered, saying, "I told you Tom kept the monster's away…"

"Not now, baby." Marceline whispered. He clung to her shoulders and she flipped into the trapdoor, flying down the ladder. The living room was cold and glowing blue. In the center of her floor was what appeared to be some kind of portal, shining a blinding white, and spinning like a vortex.

For only a second Marceline was frozen by it, so frozen by the fear it sent trembling up her spine, but it was all it took. Something clamped down on her head, an intense suction beginning as other tendrils wrapped around her arms, forcing her grip to loosen around Richard. He cried out as he fell, but he was caught by something. Marceline tried to look at him but her vision was broken by whatever had grabbed her head; its mouth was slowly devouring her, swallowing her whole.

Richard screamed again, crying out for his mothers, either of them, but mostly for Bonnibel. He kept yelling that the monsters were taking him. Marceline tried to reach out for him desperately; she violently struggled against her captor, but instantly fell limp as a ghostly appendage wrapped around her mouth. Seconds later, with the sound of her wailing son ringing in her ears, she blacked out.

When she came to she was on the floor, panting and wheezing. The room was dark again, and she sat up and glanced around. "Richard?" she asked, her voice cutting depressingly into the dark silence. "Where are you?!"

"Marceline,"

She gasped, jumping a foot in the air and remaining there. She spun around, baring her fangs and hissing ferociously. Her snarl drew back instantly—Bonnibel was sitting a foot away from her. Marceline looked down just slightly, and a strangled sigh escaped her throat.

Richard was nestled in her arms, sleeping quite soundly for a kid who was almost kidnapped by feral ghosts. He was hugging his stuffed bat in his sleep, and he was drooling all over the fluffy thing.

"You guys left it back at the castle," she explained. Her voice was quiet, but for reasons besides that there was a sleeping child in her arms. "He was all muddy so I washed him before coming here." Her eyes darted down, away from Marceline's gaze, and she frowned deeply, "I'm sorry it took me so long."

Marceline lowered herself back to the floor, sitting on her knees. "Is he going to be going to be okay?"

"He'll be fine."

Bonnibel rubbed Richard's small hand with her thumb. There was an odd mark there; it glowed like the ghost who had been here just minutes before.

"Where did it go?"

The candy queen shrugged numbly, "It left after I opened the door."

"Do you know what it wanted?"

"Richard."

Marceline swallowed, or she tried to. There was a large lump in her throat that wouldn't go down. Stress was constricting her chest, and she knew Bonnibel must be feeling a million times worse. She moved forward and hugged her family, her arms winding loosely but protectively around both people. "I'm sorry," she whispered, her voice raspy and weak. "I tried. But—it was a ghost, and—"

"I know." Bonnibel pressed her face into Marceline's neck, "There was nothing you could've done."

That hurt more than Bonnibel could have realized. She thought about it, and she realized it was true. Agony and fear gripped her stilled heart and made it lurch violently. That ghost, if Bonnibel had come just a minute later, would have taken Richard. It would have taken him to who knows where. They would never find him.

And there would have been nothing Marceline could have done about it.

Because vampires couldn't beat ghosts.


End file.
